We formed up in our squads in the makeshift parade square, nothing more than a wide, flat spot amidst the trenches, bare ground beneath our feet. In perfect order we stood at attention, shivering, pretending we weren't freezing our asses off as the midnight autumnal winds blew harder and louder. Above, a blinding floodlight turned midnight to midday, and gave me a headache. We stood there waiting for at least a half hour before the officer deigned to grace us with his presence.
In front of us, marching up and then standing atop a durasteel crate, was Officer Donori Varnels, a thin, rigid older man with an immense mustachio and a commitment to the Empire that made me wonder if he had followed The Emperor from the Outer Rim or if he was a homegrown convert enjoying his new power. It was getting harder to tell new imperials from the old these days, as Core Worlders bought in fully to the Imperial worldview. I couldn't help but think of my parents back on Coruscant, and how fervently they'd come to believe in the Empire. Regardless, Varnels was the only man on the square whose boots were kept clean from the dirt.
Flanking either side of him were two Deathtroopers. They shadowed officers everywhere these days, just in case. I had heard rumors of a mutiny over Atrisia that had spooked high command, but if there was any truth to it we'd certainly never know. But the telltale signs of increased security said something. I can't say the thought hadn't crossed my own mind, and I imagine it had crossed many others, but no one would speak a word of such traitorous thoughts, or the next thing on their mind would be the searing heat of a blaster bolt going through it.
"Ahem!" Varnels cleared his throat, with a gruff, booming voice addressed the massed soldiers. My focus snapped back to reality, to the cold, damp square.
"Soldiers of the Empire! Some of you standing here today I know were at Atrisia, fighting valiantly to show the galaxy the weakness of the Galactic Alliance! That world was a hive of anarchists and terrorists, our greatest enemies! But now, you are here on Anobis, and we have found ourselves up against a much different foe, a foe we believe will be making a move tonight, if the word of our forward scout troopers is accurate."
My mind still ran with nightmarish recollections of the hellscape that was the streets of Jar'Kai, the twisted metal and burning bodies, the acrid smoke from the imperial firebombings... the man I'd killed in the alleyway, plunging his own knife into him. What the hell did Varnels know about Atrisia? Not much if he thought it was valiant.
As he spoke, thunder cracked in the sky above, and the storm we'd been feeling on the wind finally broke free from the clouds, a torrential downpour that quickly turned the parade square into mud that we began to sink ever so slightly into. It felt like my dour thoughts had summoned the perfect weather to accompany them. The rain didn't seem to bother the fanatical officer at all though, who just yelled louder over the downpour, with the same nationalistic vigour as he'd started with.
"With heavy heart I tell you, the enemy that haunts the forests beyond these trenches are like brothers to us, ones who have lost their way. They too are Imperials, or they were once upon a time. They call themselves the Imperial Military Protectorate, but this name is a disguise for nothing more than illegitimate thugs, who debase themselves by aligning with terrorist Jedi! These are men who deny the authority of our Emperor and protect nothing but themselves, no better than mercenaries! But make no mistake, they are veterans of the Empire, and though they have turned away from our Imperial glory towards anarchy and disobedience, they are still a powerful force. But with these fortifications, the wave of anarchy will break upon our iron shores! You will keep this line well-defended, I know this, and you all know it as much!"
Varnels gave a crisp salute up to his soaked cap, to which all of us instinctually returned our own salute.
"Soldiers, to your stations! For the Empire!" He shouted,
"FOR THE EMPIRE!" we shouted back in unison.
We trudged back out into the trenches, passing the last shift of soldiers soaked and quaking in their boots as they headed to the makeshift barracks. The rain only seemed to beat down on us harder, and I was quickly reminded of how rain was becoming one of my least favorite things in the galaxy. On Coruscant it only "rained" when a pipe on the level above burst, which wasn't uncommon, but as unpleasant as that often was it usually localized, and even if the Galactic City maintenance department dragged their feet on fixing it, it was something that could be avoided. Since my training on Kuat though, I'd learned that just about every planet with water had rain on the regular, and some planets all it did was rain. I hated it. When it came down for hours on end, for miles around, there was feth all you could do but take it.
As I reached the outer trench I reached for my macrobinoculars and took a long sweeping view of the moonlit landscape and thick void of the black woodland beyond the plain. I suspected that nothing was going to happen, like last night, or the night before, and once again we'd be trading with the day shift as just a bunch of cold, wet, sleep-deprived Stormtroopers. The cold autumn rain was oppressive, and I thought there could be no way the enemy would advance on the FOB with it beating down like this. It was going to be a long, long night. There was only one thing I could really tell myself for any kind of consolation, what they'd told us on our first outdoor expedition at the academy:
Embrace the suck.
